Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Little Ears

I have never considered myself a very aggressive driver. Sure, sometimes I get riled up, but it is usually because someone has done something extraordinarily dangerous and stupid. You won’t see me lay on the horn because the guy ahead of me is daydreaming away the advanced green. I have never lost my mind over the fact the car in from of me has had its right turn signal on for the last 5 kilometers.

However, I do admit to talking to the drivers who annoy me, they can’t hear me, and it feels better to get it off my chest. I don’t swear and yell (usually), I don’t gesture. Instead I have a quiet one sided conversation with myself.

“See that little stick on the left hand side of your wheel? Yes, that is an indicator light- use it”

“Stop signs aren’t suggestions”

“You can put on mascara and drive at the same time? Talented”

“You are closer to my ass right now than my proctologist”

It is a simple little protest- and it keeps me from completely losing my cool.

But I have an audience on occasion, and I never really considered how much he pays attention to every little thing.

Until yesterday.

I left work earlier than is my norm to pick him up from daycare early so we could get to the speech pathologist on time. However, construction on the way to daycare delayed me. By the time I made it to the daycare, we only had about 15 minutes to make it to his session. Breathless, I rushed in to get the little guy, and as I was scooping Wilson off his feet to carry him to the car, I apologized for carrying him, but we had to hurry or we might be late.

And we were off.

Halfway there we are waiting behind a large truck at a stop light. When the light turned green the truck does not move because we are waiting to turn left. However, Wilson, strapped in his car seat in the back wants to get a move on, and as far as he knows “Green means Go” so he yells:

About Me

I am one of the many Newfoundlanders living and working away from The Rock, and I miss it dearly. Home is a constant image in my mind, even though I haven't lived there in over 11 years. There is something about the Island that seeps into your soul, and never allows you to truly leave. It makes life away difficult. Lonely.
This blog is for anyone out there who longs for home, and far flung family and friends.